Days Go By And Still I Think Of You
by Kittenmommy
Summary: Sometimes, things just seem to slip through our fingers.


_Days Go By And Still I Think Of You_

* * *

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: _Sapphire and Steel_ belongs to Peter J. Hammond and ITV, and I'm not making any money from this.

* * *

The bone china cup slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor.

Before I can even mourn its loss, time flows backwards. The cup pulls itself together and jumps into my hand.

* * *

The bone china cup slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor.

Before I can even mourn its loss, time flows backwards. The cup pulls itself together and jumps into my hand.

I study its delicate pattern of painted blue flowers, the sterling silver lightly painted on the rim.

* * *

The bone china cup slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor.

Before I can even mourn its loss, time flows backwards. The cup pulls itself together and jumps into my hand.

I study its delicate pattern of painted blue flowers, the sterling silver lightly painted on the rim.

Our wedding china: Something new, something blue. And now it's something old as well.

Things are beginning to get strange around here.

* * *

The bone china cup slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor.

Before I can even mourn its loss, time flows backwards. The cup pulls itself together and jumps into my hand.

I study its delicate pattern of painted blue flowers, the sterling silver lightly painted on the rim.

Our wedding china: Something new, something blue. And now it's something old as well.

My husband had hated the china. He had wanted something more "useful", more masculine. A drill, or maybe a wrench.

I wonder if the cup will stay broken this time.

* * *

The bone china cup slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor.

From behind me, a female voice speaks: "It's the cup. The cup is the trigger."

"Are you sure?" a man replies.

"Yes."

Time flows backwards. The cup pulls itself together and jumps into my hand.

* * *

The bone china cup slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor.

"What has it promised you?" the woman asks.

Time flows backwards. The cup pulls itself together and jumps into my hand.

* * *

The bone china cup slips from my fingers

"Hold it, Sapphire!"

and freezes in midair.

Things are beginning to get strange around here.

* * *

The bone china cup

"It lies, surely you know that!" the man says. "It will do anything to get what it wants!"

slips from my fingers

"So will I," I reply.

and shatters on the floor.

* * *

My husband slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor.

"What did it promise you?" the woman asks again.

"Go to Hell!"

"Take time back," the man says. "Show me."

I ignore him. He isn't talking to me anyway.

* * *

The steering wheel slips from my husband's fingers. The windshield shatters.

"This doesn't have to happen," a papery voice whispers.

"Yes it does!" the man says vehemently. "It happened, it will always happen, and you cannot stop it!"

* * *

The bone china cup is in my hands. I study its delicate pattern of painted blue flowers, the sterling silver lightly painted on the rim.

"You must stop this!" the man says.

"Tell it you refuse," she urges. "Tell it you want an end to your deal."

"Why should I?" I ask. "After all, it's only a cup."

The bone china cup slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor.

* * *

My husband's hand slips from my fingers.

"You must let him go," the woman says sadly. "You know this is wrong. Please."

* * *

The bone china cup is in my hand.

"Do you want the entire world to pay for your selfishness?" the man asks angrily.

* * *

The bone china cup is in my hand.

"Please," the woman implores. "Only you can stop this."

* * *

The bone china cup is in my hand. I reach for another sheet of newspaper and wrap it.

"You know this is the right thing to do," the man tells me.

* * *

The bone china cup is in my hand. I reach for another sheet of newspaper and wrap it. Then I place it carefully in the box with the others.

"Damn you both," I whisper. "I hope you burn."

* * *

"Is it finished?" the man asks.

"Yes," the woman replies.

FINIS.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The china pattern in this story is real. It was my parents' wedding china, which my mother left me when she died. If you want to see what it looks like, do a search for "Lenox China Chanson pattern".


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